Chapter 12 Fluidity
FLUIDITY
LOURDES
“You’re just a bit different. I guess I get it now,” I said.
“What?” Leah cocked her head.
“Things are more fluid for you than me.”
She sipped her lassi. “You just told me you were pan. That seems pretty fucking fluid.”
Breathing deeply, I said, “I grew up in a Tory house with parents that don’t get ‘the gays’ and rejoice every goddamn time I date a man.”
“Ah, the dick cure.”
“Correct.”
“My Dads have a monogamish relationship. You’re right… we’re different. And if you tell anyone—”
“You trust me way too much, love.”
Leah grabbed my hand and squeezed it gently. “I trust you won’t betray me. I’d never tell most people any of this. It is hard to trust people outside the fishbowl. It’s proof I adore you, I think.”
I melted as she said that—a bit too much.
“I adore you, too, so I would never spill such hot goss.”
She blushed. “I am glad I met you. So glad.”
Now I blushed, unable to explain how that affirmation, her touch, and her smile made me feel. She had no idea what she meant to me and letting her know felt dangerous.
I changed the subject like a coward. “So where do you see yourself going, Miss Enigmatic? After this, I mean?”
“I think there will be a Broadway run. And if they offer it to me, I’m going.”
I cringed.
“What?” She frowned. “You won’t?”
I let out a long groan. “I am a proud person, Leah. I know I don’t deserve your role, nor do I want it. And… I have a new film agent who believes in my star power. So, I think I’ve landed a couple movies next year.”
She erupted in a bright smile, then pantomimed a zipped lip.
“Yeah, it’s fresh, but I love film, and I’ve always hoped to go there,” I said.
“That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you!”
“Where are you headed?” I asked.
“Broadway—top billing. I’ll have to fight Brian, natch. Uh… movies, maybe? I can’t show my tits, though. Papa has told me if I do, he will lose his mind.”
I snickered. “Every time you say something your dad said, you cop his accent.”
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s adorable and I wouldn’t want you to be any different, Leah.”
She blushed.
Unable to be vulnerable, I suggested, “I am desperate to get absolutely pissed. Wasn’t that the point of this evening?”
“I think so? Yes. I would love to drink. This place doesn’t serve booze. Delicious, but… booze. I mean, Brian and I have tons back at the flat.”
“Brilliant. Let’s go. You paid the tab.”
“I know, but like… I need to go containers,” Leah said.
“Are you mad, woman?”
“I am not wasting this food!”
Ten minutes later, we finally left, headed to Leah’s place—an adorable flat with great views of a nice street. I still didn’t make quite enough to justify such a location, and my father wasn’t a prince.
I kicked off my shoes in the foyer, holding one of the bags of leftovers.
“You realize, princess, we arrived with enough leftover takeaway for an army at a flat that probably costs as much a month to rent as most people’s cars do to buy.”
“I love takeout the next day. There is no need to waste it all,” Leah said. “One of the simplest pleasures on earth is eating a curry in your underwear on the couch while watching trash TV, yes?”
“Can’t say I’ve done it,” I tried very hard not to picture Leah in her skivvies on the couch.
I already knew what she looked like, but somehow the idea of her lounging produced a vision of her on the sofa, kicking her legs behind her, her perfect round ass in the air as she lay on her stomach.
“What?” Leah asked, shoving the food in her fridge.
“Nothing.” I shook my head.
“Were you thinking about me half naked?”
“Definitely was not,” I lied.
“Lourdes, you’re a good liar, but I know you better. I’m flattered, honestly. Not that you’d believe me!”
She turned sour. I hated that.
“You like to flirt,” I sighed. “But at what point—”
Leah cut me off. “When I kissed you earlier, I meant it. I wanted to kiss you, so I did. And don’t tell me you felt nothing!”
“I… I felt a lot,” I admitted. “But Leah, you can’t just…”
“Do you want to fuck me or not?” Leah asked. “Because, either way, I’m going to open that bottle of scotch. If you want to fuck me, say so now. Once I drink a bit of it, I will go crawl into bed and sleep.”
She was forward as ever. What I’d read as some bisexual awakening was only there to flatter myself.
Leah didn’t feel the need to proclaim her sexuality because, to her, it was fluid.
Because of that directness, I assumed that what she wanted, she usually got.
My worries about her using me as a plaything and dumping me for a man faded.
“I would, yes. I shouldn’t, but… I would,” I said.
“Oh, really?” Leah raised an eyebrow. “Now, you’re ready and willing to touch me? Before you thought I was using you as an experiment?”
Leah’s tone was playful, not offensive. I watched intently as she poured a twenty-year whiskey in two glasses.
We clinked them with a “Cheers.”
“I fucking adore you, Leah,” I sighed. “Don’t torture me.”
Leah pulled me closer, running her fingers through my hair until her thumbs brushed my temples.
“Repeat it. I want to hear it,” Leah pouted.
“All you want is praise. You crave it!” I laughed, finally cracking the Leah Roughy nut.
“Uh-huh. But I don’t want to be in charge here. Don’t make me do all the work.”
“No laziness,” I warned, swatting her arse. “You will work.”